


Like Water in the Desert

by WritinRedhead



Series: Vasquez y Faraday One-Shots [3]
Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Established Relationship, Humor, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-10
Updated: 2017-06-10
Packaged: 2018-11-12 14:42:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11164023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritinRedhead/pseuds/WritinRedhead
Summary: Faraday can’t wrap his mind around why Vasquez gives him grief for a little prank. It was tiny. Really.And having Goodnight’s weird talk stuck in his head also doesn't help much.





	Like Water in the Desert

**Author's Note:**

> Huge THANKS to [ Fontainebleau](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fontainebleau) for beta-ing this!
> 
> Enjoy~

It hadn't rained for close to four weeks. The earth was dry and dust settled in their clothes, saddlebags, and hair. With every step, the seven horses took it twirled up more. It was simply everywhere. But most of all on Faraday's nerves. God, he hated this heat. They'd left the last town three days ago and the next settlement was still in the distance for at least one – if not two – days' worth of hard riding.

Faraday took a swig from the old dented canteen and didn't even try to hide his shudder. The water was more than just lukewarm and not even remotely refreshing. The afternoon sun hung low, burning on his skin despite the moderately wooded area they rode through. There was only so much shade the dried-out leaves could give. He tilted the canteen, using some of the 'godawful dishwater', to wet a spare cloth and spread some of the moisture on Jack's neck, knowing the horse, too, couldn't stand the heat. It had been warm before, but today felt simply unbearable.

He looked around. Riding in front of him, Goodnight kept his hat pulled low over his face to shield his eyes, and to Goodnight's left even Rocks seemed affected by the heat, hair tucked up under his hat, probably to avoid it sticking to the skin. Long hair must be a right pain in the ass in this weather; Faraday always wondered how Billy could stand it. He knew he sure as hell couldn't.

A little off to the side, Horne had his thick trapper's jacket hanging off the side of his saddle, the man himself swiping an old handkerchief over his forehead every now and then. Faraday'd make a joke about bears not being made for the desert if he wasn't so fuckin' hot himself. And he meant that in the literal sense of the word this time.

"You okay, _guero_?" Vasquez suddenly called over and Faraday turned his head. The Mexican had been riding a few steps behind, but now had moved in line with him and peered at Faraday's face. "You've kept your mouth shut for more than two hours, should I be worried?"

"I'm getting my blood cooked here," Faraday answered dryly, only managing half a grin. "'sides that, everything's peachy."

He might've not been born on the green fields of Ireland, but his mama certainly was – his father maybe too, though he wasn't so certain about that – but Faraday knew for damn sure these were not the right temperatures for his poor, cold-loving Irish blood.

"Come on, _guero_ , not giving in to a bit of warm weather? This is nice, isn't it?" Vasquez gave him a wide grin, showing off his teeth, then lifted his head up to the sky as if basking in the sunlight instead of suffering from it .

Faraday didn't buy it one bit, but he had to laugh anyway. "You're such a bad liar, Vas. I know what you're tryin' to do." He even thought it was a nice thing to do, kind of, thought he didn't say that. Vasquez'd know. Probably. He fanned himself with his hat twice. "But I'm still hot."

Vasquez shrugged. "One can try, eh?"

Despite the advantage of his parentage – allowing him to acclimatise slightly better – Faraday noticed the bandana loosely tied around Vasquez's neck had already darkened with sweat. While Faraday couldn't deny he found a flush-faced and sweaty Vasquez quite appealing, that usually included a different sort of riding and involved way less clothing. None of which was the case right now. What a shame.

Faraday let out a deep breath. It looked like only Sam, leading their little troop, and Red Harvest, even further behind him and Vas, rode with their head held high – either not minding the heat or simply better at concealing it. Faraday strongly suspected it was the second. Had to be. It was simply impossible for anyone not to be hot in this hellish weather.

They'd been on horseback for the better part of the day and, judging by the aching of his bones and rumbling of his stomach, it was well about time they started looking for a spot to set up camp for the night. But he'd be damned if he'd be the first to propose they stop.

Jack snorted and shook his head to get rid of the flies attracted by the moisture. Faraday patted his neck, mumbling, "It's alright, buddy," in to the stallion's ear, but caught himself thinking it was somehow directed more towards himself than the horse.

Just when he was about to seriously consider accepting the bruise it'd surely leave on his ego and ask for a halt, the sound of hooves behind him suddenly stopped out of the blue and Red Harvest said, "There is water."

Faraday perked up immediately. "What? Seriously?!" Water meant trees, trees meant shade, and shade meant having a good rest, food, and preferably some whisky. In that order. Great. "You ain't kidding?"

The Comanche nodded. "It is close. I can hear it."

Faraday couldn't hear a damn thing, but as long as there was a rest and some shade in the foreseeable future, that was fine with him.

"Which direction?" asked Chisolm calmly, bringing his own horse to a halt with a brief tug of the reins. Red Harvest pointed along the way they'd been heading anyway. "Good. Wouldn't have liked a big detour. I guess there's a spring in the hills up there." With a click of his tongue and a tap to its flank he got the horse moving again. "Alright, let's go."

And sure enough, just a few more minutes down the path, Faraday spotted a greener area where groundwater, presumably from a nearby stream, gave life to the surrounding vegetation, providing shading and making it a decent camp site. After they stopped, he dismounted and tied Jack to one of the lower hanging branches, next to Goodnight's chestnut mare. Which proved to be a mistake.

" _Goddamn it!_ " he cursed when he felt a sudden sharp pinch in his arm while tightening the knot. He turned to glare at the mare. "Every damn time! Why?! I didn't do anythin' to ya!"

As they were travelling together they all had soon learned to be wary of the temperamental horse. Hell, the damn animal bit nearly as much as Jack, even though Goodnight stubbornly refused to acknowledge it. But he could have sworn that the horse made a difference between folk: while she seemed to have a particular dislike for himself, she sure as hell never bit Robicheaux or Rocks.

Of course, the mare did not reply, but from a couple of feet away, Billy looked over, brows raised as if to ask, _Again?_

"Shuddup," Faraday muttered sourly, rubbing his arm.

After he made sure all horses were properly tended to, Goodnight's with some considerable caution, Faraday walked over to Vasquez and Billy, and working together they moved a big fallen log, creating a cleared, centred space where they could later light a campfire without fear of setting the surrounding area on fire.

They were set up quite quickly and after everyone had claimed a patch of ground for themselves, Horne shouldered his large hunting rifle. "Up we go," he called, his voice typically an octave too high for a man of his built. "Let us see if the Lord has provided us with something decent for dinner around here."

To Faraday's surprise, Red Harvest also took hold of his bow and arrow. "I will look out. Big cats here," he gave as an explanation, holding his hand about mid chest above the ground, then following after Horne.

Sitting on the ground next to Faraday, an arm flung over his bent knees and chewing on a blade of grass, Vasquez shuddered and muttered something sounding like " _Odio los gatos_...", whatever the heck that meant.

Opposite them, underneath one of the other trees, Goodnight leaned over and murmured something in Billy's ear that Faraday couldn't make out. It elicited a small but rare – and honestly a little frightening – smile from Rocks, before Goodnight put his hat back on and called out loudly, "Volunteering to get firewood."

"Yeah, sure," Faraday snorted. "Getting firewood, my ass," he mumbled under his breath, although not loud enough for anyone to actually hear. He might or might not be afraid that one of Billy's knives would slip otherwise. He'd bet his best bottle of Bourbon Rocks could make it look like an accident.

There was a sudden touch of a hand on his back and a familiar voice said close to his ear, "What do you say we go looking for some wood later, too, _querido_?"

When Faraday turned, Vasquez was leaning over, the grin tugging at the corners of his mouth reflected in his eyes. Well, alright, so someone _had_ heard him. Wasn't so bad, though.

He gave Vasquez a wide grin in return and then watched him stand up and walk off to where he'd put his saddlebag and bedroll, a distinct swagger in his stride.

As soon as Robicheaux and Rocks had disappeared in the heavy brush and it was just the two of them left, Chisolm tossed Faraday an empty canteen.

"Here," he said when Faraday cocked his head questioningly. "Make yourself useful, too, and go get us some fresh water." While Faraday doubted their Cajun-Asian duo were up to much useful, he shrugged anyway. Chisolm took a look over his shoulder, then turned back at him. "And take Vasquez with you, I don't like people going off on their own. Red was right, the area's prone to have cougars."

"What about yourself?"

Chisolm gave him a confident look and patted the colt on his belt. "Don't worry 'bout me, I'll know should the horses get uneasy."

Faraday nodded, then smirked. "Alright. Just don't go shootin' anything else that rustles in the bush. Especially if it swears in French," he said, before he grabbed the other canteens and sauntered off, looking for his – the Mexican.

It was weird, really. Ever since all hell had broken loose those couple of months ago, it had somehow, slowly but gradually, become _him and Vasquez._ And Faraday wasn't all too sure what that meant. Neither of them had actually addressed the issue. The fought well together and they fucked well together. Laughed together, too. And that was all good and well for Faraday, it seemed like a pretty sweet deal.

But naturally, Robicheaux'd just had to butt in and go planting these confusing thoughts in his mind by offering some uncalled-for advice. He'd hinted on more than one occasion that him and Vasquez – there it was again, _him and Vasquez_ – might go in a different direction than just this comfortable, casual thing, and Faraday might've actually found someone worth changing his way of living for.

Faraday's response to this thoughtful intervention had been clear. He'd made a quick rude hand gesture questioning Goodnight's state of mind and then had very maturely turned his back and walked off. Because heaven forbid, there was no way Josh Faraday, fastest six-gun wielder from central nowhere all the way to Sacramento, would ever follow his footsteps and act like part of an old married couple. _Hell, no._

That night he'd tried for hours to fall asleep in his cheap inn bed and convince himself his insomnia had nothing to do with the fact that he didn't like to be the only one in it. He'd nearly managed.

So yeah, he wasn't really sure what _him and Vasquez_ meant, but as long as they had each other's backs and hadn't yet killed one another, it didn't matter. Things were good just the way they were. Right?

Though that did not mean Faraday didn't still love doing everything in his power to annoy the hell out of Vasquez. He found him not too far away from a large tree, checking one of the straps of his saddlebag. "Perfect... "

A mischievous expression promising trouble on his face, Faraday quietly moved closer until he was right behind the tree. He carefully lowered the canteens to the ground, so as not to make a sound, and then, without further ado but with a poor imitation of a catlike growl, he pounced on Vasquez's back, arms encircling Vasquez's chest.

He didn't have to wait long for the reaction. Vasquez jerked around in a fraction of a second, body tensing and prepared to fight off whatever attacked him. Faraday quickly let go before his ingenious move earned him an accidental shiner from Vasquez's fist.

"What the hell?! _¡Tonto del culo!_ " Vasquez started cursing, even slipping into Spanish when instead of the expected mountain lion he saw Faraday, shaking with laughter. "What is wrong with you?! _¡Loco gringo!_ Have you finally lost it? I could have shot you!"

"Nah… don't get your panties in a twist…I ain't that careless." Faraday was still laughing, nearly doubling over. "I've seen your gun belt lyin' on the bed roll. Pretty careless, darlin', if ya ask me."

"Well, I don't," Vasquez growled as he bent to pick it up, though he seemed relieved. "You nearly gave me a heart attack, _guero_."

Faraday didn't apologise – he never did as long as he knew he hadn't truly fucked up – though he did press a short kiss to the side of Vasquez's mouth, before slapping his shoulder and going to gather up the canteens he'd left on the ground. "Sam wants us to get water. You coming?" he called over his shoulder.

"… _Sí_ ," Vasquez replied grudgingly and grabbed two of the bottles from Faraday's arms.

 

<<>><<>><<>> 

 

"Should've seen your face, though..."

Faraday still snickered, even after they'd arrived at the small creek a few hundred yards away. The embankment wasn't a gentle slope but a deep step about one-and-a-half-feet down and Vasquez had to crouch to hold the opening of the first canteen under the water.

" _Por díos_ , will you stop going on about it? You took me by surprise. I just don't like cats, no matter what size. But that doesn't change anything, _guero_ , that move was still pretty damn stupid." When it was full, he screwed on the cap and held it out to Faraday. "Pass me the next one?"

Faraday did, and Vasquez repeated the process, not stopping his lecture.

"I have never met _anyone_ who risks his life as easily as you do." His voice still was an angry kind of growl and if Faraday hadn't known better, he'd even say he sounded worried. Luckily, he did know better.

"Alright, alright." Faraday finally yielded, cutting him off. "I'll stop. It was stupid and I won't do it again. There, don't be mad."

Vasquez filled the third bottle and stood up, straightening his back to look Faraday in the eye. "Damn right you won't."

Just why was Vasquez so goddamn touchy about stuff like that? It was yet another thing Faraday couldn't make sense of. It'd been a joke, for heaven's sake, no real danger involved. He didn't say that, though; Vas was already pissed – no need to poke him with a stick.

"Want me to make it up?" He asked instead and tried for a look he knew always worked on the Mexican whenever he needed to distract him, a lopsided grin and a hand ruffled through his hair.

"You're impossible…" Vasquez shook his head and gave a huffy laugh. "And what do you propose? Having anything specific in mind?"

 _Jackpot_. Faraday smirked. It apparently worked this time too. "Well…" He reached out to hook his fingers in the loops of Vasquez's belt, tugging him closer. "We didn't get that firewood, after all..." He brought his face close to Vasquez's. "We could still do that if you're up for it…"

Moving slightly closer to Faraday, Vasquez's hands found their way around his waist, coming to a hold on his lower back as he brought their bodies flush together.

"That would certainly be nice, _hermoso_ …" he rumbled into Faraday's ear, before he looked into his eyes again. "But don't think you will get out of trouble this easily."

"We'll see about that," Faraday said confidently and tilted his head upwards to meet Vasquez's mouth.

Tragically, he did not notice until too late that it all had led to Vasquez stepping onto an already loose clod of earth on the embankment, which crumbled away further under each of their movements. It broke off, leaving Vasquez without a footing, and of course, the mean bastard knew nothing better than to pull Faraday with him.

With a loud noise and water splashing in all directions, they fell backwards into the creek, Faraday landing on top of Vasquez. In contrast to the temperature of the air, the water was _cold. as. fuck._

 _"Goddammit, Vas!_ " Faraday exclaimed as he disentangled himself, standing up in the waist deep water and offering an arm for Vasquez to pull himself upright. "You just had to do that, didn't you?"

"Payback, _guerito_ ," he said, but accepted the offer. "That's for scaring the living hell out of me."

"Well, consider us even, then." Faraday tugged at his wet shirt, the fabric clinging to his skin.

Vasquez shrugged in agreement, then shook himself, drops from his dark locks flying everywhere. " _Mierda_ , this is cold."

"Sun not warm enough for you?" Faraday teased and gave him a suggestive grin. "Need somethin' else to warm ya up?"

He swiftly bent over and pulled his shirt over his head, throwing the soggy fabric unceremoniously ashore. It landed in the dirt, but Faraday didn't give a damn. He looked up to find Vasquez had suddenly stilled, brown eyes silently fixed on his chest.

Faraday smirked. "Like what you see?" But Vasquez still didn't react. Weird. Comments like this usually never failed to get a rise out of Vasquez. Faraday searched his face, green eyes meeting Vasquez's brown ones, and what he found there threw him off balance.

They were… distant, pained, even. And angry, somehow, though, for once not at him. It was a different kind of angry, one Faraday had seen only once.

"What?" Faraday frowned and glanced down at himself.

In the sunlight, a myriad of fading pink marks littered the whole of his upper body, even more hidden under his remaining clothes. One for every piece of wood or metal shrapnel that had pierced the skin almost four months ago.

Huh. He hadn't seen it that clear himself yet, not in the light of day. It came to his mind that Vasquez couldn't have either; the only times with clothes off had always been in the dark, behind the closed doors of private rooms.

"It is a crime," Vasquez said quietly. Faraday had been about to make some flippant comment, à la not choosing his good looks, when Vasquez continued, his voice soft and fingertips brushing over Faraday's skin, tracing some of the bigger scars. "Marring this beautiful body."

"Vas…" Faraday started but trailed off. He thought about reaching up and touching Vasquez's hand with his, but reconsidered and just let Vasquez do what he apparently needed to.

"I can't stand it," he then stated. "I _hate_ remembering what could have happened to you. Just as much as I hate thinking of the day it could happen again…"

"Nah, done that once." Faraday tried for an easy smile – it was hard. "I'm not feeling the urge for a repeat anytime soon. It wasn't that much fun," he added with a wink, hoping it would drive away that unnatural, hurt expression on Vasquez's face. He didn't like it. Not one bit. It made his skin crawl.

 _"Díos mio_ ," Vasquez laughed and shook his head, his features – thank heaven – brightening up again, "I don't know why I'm in love with a reckless asshole like you, but I'm serious. No more breakneck stunts like that, you hear me, _guero_? Don't want to lose you, no matter what a _loco gringo_ you are."

Now it was Faraday's time to fall silent. He swallowed before he muttered, "Curse you, Goodnight Robicheaux, you old fool. So, this is what you meant…"

Vasquez looked at him confused. "What are you talking about?"

Right, just what was he talking about? What had Goodnight been talking about? Love, probably. Actual, _fucking_ love. Something to which Faraday had always tried to give a wide berth .

Love was a dangerous business. A wicked little thing that could hurt you in all ways possible. Loving someone could wreak even more havoc, that he knew for sure. There was worry, loss, grief, and half a ton of other shitty vulnerabilities in it, and Faraday had seen more than one man whose downfall had been just a single one of 'em. Casual attachment, on the other hand, was much safer. For both of them. And therefore, he'd tried to keep it at that.

Fat load of good that had done. Never in a million years had it occurred to him, someone – well, Vasquez – would be willing to risk all of that, and for his sorry ass. The man deserved a fuckin' medal.

" _Guero_ … Is something wrong?"

Vasquez's voice pulled him from his thoughts. He was still looking at Faraday.

"No…" He drawled out his answer, quiet and slow. "Not at all. Somethin' just came to me. Surprised me, actually."

"You feel like sharing?" Vas still seemed thoroughly puzzled at the sudden shift of character.

"It's just… you said, you… well, you love me?" Faraday repeated, feeling more than a little stupid. The words just tasted so fucking weird on his tongue.

"You didn't know that before?!" Vasquez's voice was incredulous; he stared at Faraday, eyes wide open in disbelief. " _Jésus, guero_ , what did you think then?"

"Hell, I don't know!" Faraday defended himself, raising his shoulders, then, more quietly and slowly, he said, "I just didn't…understand why…Not _me_ , anyway…"

 _"Estúpido_ , of course you…" Vasquez took his face in both his hands and kissed him hard. Then he pressed their foreheads together. "Who else? _Mí estúpido querido..."_

"'s that mean?" Faraday muttered, slightly embarrassed but definitely not ready to admit to himself how red his ears must be, when Vasquez pulled away. "You been sayin' it before."

"Means you're an idiot," Vas deadpanned.

"Not that, you ass." He swatted at his chest. "I always thought it was just a different form of that other one, 'guerr-iito' or however you pronounce that."

"Your Spanish is shit. _Guerito_." Vasquez laughed, emphasising the supposed sound. "You want to know what it means? ' _Querido_?'"

At Faraday's slow nod, he leaned close and whispered in his ear, making his eyes widen first, before a grin split his face.

 _"_ Oh… _God_ , Vas, I didn't know you were so sappy."

"And you are incorrigible," Vasquez shot back, but Faraday was only listening with half an ear, being too busy pressing his face to the side of Vasquez's neck while tugging at his shirt.

"I'm what?" If he remembered right they'd been about to do something, and Faraday very much wanted to continue now, but the damn sticky fabric didn't comply. "C'mon, help me get this off, will ya? It needs to go. It's not fair you're the only one enjoying the view."

" _Sí, sí._ "

Vasquez raised his arms allowing Faraday to peel the shirt off up to his chest, then removed it the rest of the way himself, and as soon as he'd finished, Faraday plucked it from his fingers and carelessly flung the soaked cloth over his shoulder.

His hands had already taken hold of Vasquez's sides, and he could feel the touch of water-cool fingers on the small of his back when –

"Hey!"

Alarmed by the sudden sound of another voice, Faraday turned and – saw Goodnight and Billy standing on the side of the creek. Goodnight pulled the wet fabric off his head, giving it a disapproving glance, and promptly threw it back. Vas caught his shirt just before it hit the water's surface.

"What do you think you're doing?" Goody asked, then looked at Billy, shaking his head. "Like children… I swear, they are just like children ."

"Children grow up," Billy reminded him dryly.

"That you're right about."

"You're just envious, admit it!" Faraday called up to them. To say he was annoyed at the interruption would have been an understatement, and he splashed a good deal of the cold water onto the bank. Sadly, both men were quick to sidestep. "Why're ya here, anyway?"

"Came to check up on you. You were taking so long," Goodnight explained.

"Well, you did. Now go back wherever the hell you came from."

"My, my, why so touchy?" He took a step closer to the edge, not far from where the earth was still a darker colour, result of freshly being broken off. "Did we interrupt something? Billy, do you think we interrupted something, because I think we just might have…"

Goodnight had been right. About the whole _Vasquez and him_ matter. And he was … well, grateful could be a fitting word – not that Faraday would admit that, let alone say it aloud. Though he guessed he could at least repay him with a little refreshment in the in this godawful desert heat. For the advice and that little interruption just now.

No one ever believed him when Faraday claimed he could keep his mouth shut should he want to. But now he did. Kept his mouth shut, nudged Vasquez in the side, and just let things take their course.

The earth gave in to the additional weight, crumbled away under Goodnight's boots, and the creek claimed yet another wet and cursing victim.

"That reminds me, did we tell ya how we ended up in here in the first place?" Faraday called over, not even bothering to hide his laughter. They stood close enough for him to notice the reverberations of Vasquez's chuckle.

Ignoring both of them in favour of rescuing his hat from floating away, Goodnight held up his hand for Billy to grab. "Help me out, _mon cher_?" he asked.

Sighing, Billy squatted down at the embankment and when he reached for the outstretched hand, Goodnight's hand shot forward and closed around his wrist.

"Gotcha." Goodnight gave him a bright smile, almost boyish, that made him seem years younger – And if even Faraday had an idea of what was about to happen, Rocks sure as hell had, too.

"No, no, no, Goody, wait! Stop-don't –!"

Billy tried to pull backward – but it was too late. Goodnight tugged, and Billy lost his already unstable balance, falling face-first into the clear river. There was a loud splash and a following second of silence. Then Billy resurfaced.

"Goody..." he said slowly as he stood up, waist deep in the cool water and pushing his hair out of his face, "I love you… but you _will_ pay for this."

Apparently, saying these words was easier for some than others. But Faraday liked to imagine they still had enough time to practice. For the moment, though, he was content sharing a laugh with Vas and watching Goodnight trying to evade Billy's revenge.

 

<<>><<>><<>> 

 

When the four dripping wet figures slunk back to the campsite half an hour later, Sam Chisolm didn't say a single word. Instead he gave them a long, thorough look, then took the largest canteen out of Goodnight's hands, turned around, and poured it into a big pot to start preparing dinner.

 

* * *

_fin._

**Author's Note:**

> **Translations:**
> 
> Odio los gatos – Hate them cats  
> Qué chingados! – What the fuck?!  
> Tonto del culo – Stupid idiot  
> Loco gringo – Crazy... well, gringo  
> Mierda – Shit  
> Mí estúpido querido – My stupid beloved/sweetheart/darling (take your pick)
> 
> Thanks for reading :)  
> ~Writin’Redhead  
> tumblr: [ writinredhead](https://writinredhead.tumblr.com)


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